


Casual

by Fluphies



Category: Degrassi
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:17:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluphies/pseuds/Fluphies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tristan and Miles are roommates at boarding school and Miles may or may not develop a painfully obvious crush. But who wouldn't when the guy who sleeps on the other side of your room is super cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Bit Pretentious, Don't Ya Think?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey it's that boarding school au I promised several months ago and I finally got around to writing. This is going somewhere.

“Uh, I can come back later if I’m interrupting something.”

Tristan, after walking all the way across campus, had just arrived at his dorm to find one Miles Hollingsworth III receiving a stern talking to from his father. And that’s how they met. Suitcase still in hand, Tristan was ready to book right out of there, yet he decided not to because of that little voice in the back of his head telling him to grow the fuck up. Like a decent human being, he politely announced his presence so to avoid accusations of eavesdropping. Although the firm grip to his son’s arm might suggest otherwise, Miles’ father didn’t seem like that bad of a person. That’s a lie. He did seem pretty bad, but Tristan didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

“No need,” he assured, “I was just leaving anyway.” He turned to face his son, “Just promise me you won’t get into any kind of trouble this year, Miles.”

The boy responded with a small “sure” before the man left, closing the door behind him.

Degrassi was the co-ed boarding school that parents sent their kids to when they didn’t want to deal with them anymore. That’s not entirely true, but it’s not entirely false either, and for a privately funded institution, it sure didn’t cost much to go there. Tristan had attended ninth grade, and now a sophomore, he already knew the ropes and was ready to face the year head on. On a not completely unrelated note, he had become what he liked to call “Tristan 2.0,” a better version of his old self, now complete with platinum blonde hair and devoid of plaid fedoras. If he wasn’t so caught up in getting to his dorm so he could unpack before class tomorrow, he might have noticed more people sending him flirty glances as he strutted across campus.

Miles on the other hand, was expelled from his last boarding school for reasons not to be mentioned and though his parents could afford to send him somewhere better, his dad thought that keeping him within driving distance would keep him out of trouble. It probably wouldn’t.

Now it was the afternoon before the first day of school and although dorms had been accessible for moving in all weekend, both boys had waited until the last day. These next few hours would be pivotal for determining how smoothly the next several months will go. There’s always a chance that they could hate each other or have really conflicting values or just never talk and be the kind of roommates who you don’t tell your kids about when you’re older.

“You must be Tristan. Sorry about my dad,” he turned to face the other boy, leaning his thighs against his desk, “Not the best first impression, huh?”

Tristan sat on his bed, beginning to get situated, tossing his bags on the floor then unzipping his suitcase, “Then why don’t you give me a better one?”

He laughed shyly, “you’re kidding.”

“I’m not. Now go on, introduce yourself.”

He stepped in front of Tristan and held out his hand, “Miles Hollingsworth the Third.”

Instead of shaking his hand in return, Tristan just leaned back on his palms and said blankly, “A bit pretentious, don’t ya think?”

“Seriously?” Miles lifted his hand to his back, sighing, “Fine. How would you have done it?”

Tristan thought for a minute, not taking his eyes off of Miles’, realizing the boy had already made a permanent impression; a good one. “Nah, you’re good.”

“Well, now it’s your turn. Introduce yourself.”

Smiling, Tristan reached his arm out for a shake, “Tristan Milligan.”

Without really being annoyed, Miles rolled his eyes, “That’s exactly how I did it.”

“Yeah, but I smiled. And my name’s like ten times less intimidating than yours. So it works for me.”

****  
  


The boys stayed up through the night, talking about their hometowns and their hobbies and their plans for the year. Instead of marching down to the dining hall for dinner, they stayed in their room munching on chips and peanuts from the vending machines and sipping gatorade that Miles’ had in his mini fridge. They hardly noticed the time speeding past.

Miles sat on the floor, his shoulder blades against his bed, folding clothes that seemed to have just been thrown into a duffle bag before. Tristan pretended not to notice when Miles stretched his arms above his head and his t-shirt lifted up revealing a few centimeters of skin; instead he pretended to be oh so occupied by hanging up his posters. He also pretended not to notice the way Miles crossed his eyes a bit whenever he took a drink, something Tristan couldn’t help but find adorable and mildly obnoxious all at once. In Miles’ defense, he probably didn’t realize he was doing anything of the sort. Before they knew it it was nearly midnight and neither of them cared that they had school in the morning.

Tristan mentally slapped himself. Stop it, he thought, You can’t like him. He could be an axe murderer for all you know. And you promised yourself you wouldn’t crush on a roommate.

“What are you thinking about?” Miles’ raised an eyebrow, “You’ve been staring at the wall for like five minutes.”

Tristan fiddled with the roll of tape in his hands, “Oh, just where I’m gonna hang my Whitney poster, may she rest in peace.”

In a flash, Miles stepped up on Tristan’s bed, snatched said poster off the floor, and spread it against the wall, right over the head board. “How about here?” He waited for a response.

The other boy took a few steps towards the opposite wall so that he could get a better view. He knew it was a perfect spot, but he pretended to think a couple seconds before answering, “I think we found the spot.”

“Well my mom redecorates our house all the time. I couldn’t help but develop an eye for design.”

“Only the best for the second greatest diva of our time.”

“And who would the first be?” Miles asked, truly curious.

“Lady Gaga of course,” replied Tristan, so confident in his answer that he hardly gave it a single  thought. Miles just smiled. “I’m sorry. I sounded really stupid, didn’t I.”

“No, not at all. It was,” Miles jumped off the bed, “cute?”

“Shutup,” Tristan said, trying to sound angry. When Miles started laughing, he knew that he had failed. The two of them just stared at each other’s eyes, time slowing down, smiling like idiots.

There was a knock on the door and they were snapped back to reality. Miles’ looked over at the door then back at Tristan who just shrugged since they were probably wondering the same thing. When Miles finally approached the door and swung it open, he revealed an obviously caffeinated Winston and a sleeveless Zig.

Miles looked back at Tristan one more time to see if he was still as clueless as him. “Hey, Chewy. What are you doing here?”

“You two know each other?” Tristan questioned.

“Yeah, Chewy and I go way back.” Apparently, that was Winston’s nickname, probably something to do with his last name.

“Miles, Zig. Zig, Miles,” Winston said, introducing the guy who stood by his side.

Zig shoved his hands into the pockets of his gym shoots, sort of as a way of saying he didn’t like Miles. Then he looked to the boy behind him, “Tristan.”

“Sup, Zig,” Tristan tried to sound less awkward than the situation did. No one spoke for a solid minute.

“So, um, now that we’re all acquainted,” said Winston, “Some of the guys are sneaking out to the lake, they promised a good time and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with. Tristan can come, too.”

“Only if I’m allowed,” Tristan chimed sarcastically with intentional sass.

Winston rolled his eyes then looked to Miles, “So?”

Miles raised his eyebrows to the boy behind him. Tristan smiled and tossed aside his roll of tape, “We’re in.”


	2. The Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After zero consideration, Miles and Tristan tag along on a trip to the lake.

This felt like the kind of thing that happens in movies, and only in a frat or at camp or something like that. That’s why it felt so weird taking the short walk in the dark to the lake. To be completely honest, Tristan didn’t even know the name of the lake, he just knew that it was probably the crappiest lake in existence. A small, modest body of water which was just a walk through the trees and had a single dock that probably would never hold a boat without being pulled under the surface.

Miles and Tristan joined a group of what seemed to be mostly seniors, about twelve guys total, making them question how Winston was even invited in the first place. During their short walk through the woods, they discovered Winston and Zig were roommates and it turns out Zig had gone from guitarist of an amature band with a Beiber haircut, and honestly not much of a catch despite the number of girls he had chasing him, to a real crowd pleaser with considerably better hair all the the span of one summer. They unanimously decided not to question him further.

Tristan stood with the water at his knees, his toes curling around the mucky lakebed, inhaling the nighttime air. He was in a daze. Maybe it was from the fog or maybe it was because he had a long day and was running on doritos. It didn’t matter because the way he was feeling could never be recreated.

He felt as if he could stay there forever. That was until a pair of legs came splashing past. Miles turned to face him, “You coming or what?”

Miles had discarded his shirt and was now only in the pair of shorts he had been lounging in all night. A few of the guys were jumping in off the dock into where the water was deeper, some wearing even less clothing. Tristan had almost expected Miles to be wearing his birthday suit as well. The water was freezing and everyone around him seemed to be flailing through the water with zero purpose.

“Maybe in a little while,” Tristan gestured to the dock.

Miles splashed around in the water, “Come on, why not?”

The other boy folded his arms and glanced around him, at everyone around him. He didn’t really have an answer. “Just because,” he said in a tone meaning “end of discussion.”

“Suit yourself,” Miles hummed before diving backwards into the water.

 

Still, Tristan was determined to enjoy himself, be that by watching everybody else enjoy themselves. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he had hoped, but from where he sat he could see the moon peeking from behind the clouds and he could see Miles. He was toned. And Tristan couldn’t help, but stare whenever he thought the coast was clear. Even in all his glory, Miles was lanky and clumsy in the water earning a smirk the other boy everytime he fell ass first into the water. Tristan pulled at the fabric of his shirt.

He was sitting on the very edge of the wooden dock with his legs dangling freely. He had hardly been sitting there a couple minutes when something wrapped carefully around his ankles. Before he could look to see what it was, he was pulled off the dock and submerged in the lake.

“What the hell?!” Tristan exclaimed, gasping for air once he finally emerged from the icy water, “You asshole!”

Miles treaded the water beside him, “Just because you wouldn’t take your shirt off doesn’t mean I was going to let you miss out on all the fun.”

“Who said it was because I didn’t want to take my clothes off? What if I couldn’t swim or something? Then I could have drowned and you would have been responsible and you really don’t want that on your conscience.”

“I had a feeling you’d be fine. And I was obviously right,” Miles nodded to the blonde who effortlessly padded at the surface.

“Well, I’m fine, but my clothes aren’t.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Miles floated forward, “You’ll dry.”

 

Tristan figured he might as well enjoy himself from there forward. They had moved over towards the shallower water where everyone else was and gallivanted about like idiots. A few seniors got up on the deck and began preaching something about making this year one for the books and how tonight marked the start of a great year and stuff like that. Miles found it most entertaining to sneak up behind Winston and knock him into the water, something that happened around fifteen times before Winston decided to watch his back. Tristan was getting acquainted with a few of the other guys, most of which he had barely seen walking down the halls let alone talked to before tonight.

 

“Who’s out here?!” a husky voice called from through the trees, the beam of a flashlight shining in their direction. All the boys stopped where they were, looking between one another.

“Is that security?” one of the guys asked.

Before they even got an answer, everyone started leaping out of the water like asian carp. They grabbed their things from off the ground and sprinted into the trees, in the opposite direction of the husky voice, without looking back. It was every man for himself until Tristan grabbed Miles’ wrist, pulling him out of sight. He was too pumped with adrenaline to realize at first, but when he did he snapped his hand back to himself, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. Miles hadn’t minded.

The adrenaline didn’t fade until they were climbing up the stairwell, lingering behind everyone else. Tristan breathed heavy as he dragged his feet one stair at a time, yet he was beaming because narrowly escaping school security was enough of a reason to be happy.

A solid majority of the guys stopped at the bathroom once they got upstairs, at least the ones who lived in the same dorm. The stark brightness of the overhead lights against the white tiles nearly blinded them in contrast to being outside. It was probably two in the morning when everyone settled into their respective quarters and tucked neatly back into their room, Tristan and Miles both started rummaging through their drawers for dry pajamas. Tristan picked out an oversized t-shirt and a clean pair of boxer-briefs then proceeded towards the door. “I’m gonna get changed in the bathroom,” he said to Miles who had just found something to wear.

“No, you’d have to walk back down the hall,” Miles reasoned, “just get changed in here.”

“My legs work fine, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Come on, I won’t look,” he turned to face the wall, “See?”

Tristan hesitated before trudging back into the room, “Fine, but no peeking.”

Miles let his shorts drop to his ankles and continued their conversation despite them facing opposite directions, “To be honest, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

The blonde was quickly discarding his wet clothes and replacing them with their dry counterparts, “What do you mean?”

“I know that’s why you didn’t want to swim, which is totally your choice, but your wet shirt does cling pretty tightly.”

Tristan wasn’t sure how to respond and he honestly wasn’t sure was it meant. He just finished getting changed in silence then began to put moisturizer on his face, “You can turn around now. You didn’t peek right?” he teased though he seriously hoped not.

“And what if I did?”

“I’m gonna pretend you’re messing with me,” Tristan hopped into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, “Goodnight.”

Miles pulled the chain on the lamp, “Night, Tris.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a break from school so I should have the next maybe couple chapters up this week.


	3. The First Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tristan and Miles fall into each other's schedules and get to know each other's friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly fluff and dialogue, but trust me more will happen soon.

“Miles, get up.”

The brunette just grunted in return, twisting his legs around in his sheets and burying his face in the pillow.

“I’m leaving in ten minutes, with or without you,” Tristan tugged a light blue t-shirt with a tiny pocket over his head, this time a bit less worried that Miles might catch a glimpse of skin. He stood in front of the wide mirror that hung on the wall above their shared chest of drawers, “If you want to eat before the assembly, you better hurry up.”

Miles took that as a sign he should probably get up and get ready. Walking behind Tristan, he grabbed his deodorant off the dresser top and rolled it on his underarms, his face still groggy and his bangs hanging heavy over his forehead. Miles stuck his fingers into some unidentifiable yet notably expensive hair product, molding his hair into place then made faces in the mirror.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Tristan sat down on his bed to slip on a pair of socks, “You’ve been awake all of two minutes and you already look amazing.” Miles just laughed. Tristan stood up and straighten his shirt, “You do smell like a lake though.”

“That makes two of us.”

 

Miles bought the two of them muffins from the snack counter in the dining hall. Sure, Tristan would have prefered to eat something from the actual food line where the food was already paid for by tuition, but Miles had made them late. For the time being it was good enough considering Miles had offered to pay and because the fact that his muffin was blueberry made Tristan feel less guilt for all the empty calories. They ate as they walked outside, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, the grass dewy, and the air thick with moisture as well.

 

Once inside the auditorium, Tristan spotted Maya’s blonde curls easily through the rows of seats, starting in her direction. Those same curls swung around her shoulders when she turned and waved then motioned to a few empty seats beside her.

“I’m gonna go find Chewy,” Miles excused himself, ducking through the herd of students. That left Tristan to make his way over to Maya alone.

“Who was _that_?”

“That was my new roomie, Miles Hollingsworth,” Tristan sighed into his palm, “the third.”

“He’s cute,” Maya observed.

“Ugh, isn’t he? And totally my type.”

Maya punched Tristan’s arm, “You told me you wouldn’t crush on your roommate.”

“I know I said that, but look at him. You can’t tell me he isn’t crush worthy.”

“Are you even sure he’s into guys?”

“It doesn’t matter cause nothing is going to happen between us. Roommates dating can only end in disaster. It’s like moving in right after the first date, except we already did move in together.”

“Are you sure?” Maya asked, honestly skeptical, “I don’t want to worry about you getting hurt.”

“I promise it’s just a crush. I’ve had enough experience with unreciprocated love. Anyway, how have you been?”

Maya presented Tristan with tales of her summer adventures, jumping back and forth between stories like the scatterbrain she is. She easily romanced the boring parts which helped take his mind off of the boy across the room.

 

Lunch rolled around quickly, with most classes being jammed with syllabi and pointless information, Tristan found it easy to zone out. There was also his english teacher who was quite the distraction and he wasn’t even a teacher teacher, he was just a long term substitute which means he could care less about his students’ grades. Not to mention he was very attractive.

While Tristan stabbed at his garden salad, Miles dropped his tray down on the table and nearly sat on top of the other boy. Granted, there wasn’t much room left on the bench, but still. Winston took his seat across from Miles and beside Maya before striking up conversation about spiders and their eggs which spared absolutely no one’s appetite. Soon a fifth person came to join them.

“Ugh. Someone has to tell the lunch lady that the smokey eye look isn’t working for her.”

A girl with long brown hair parted down the center, plopped down on Tristan’s open side. He rolled his eyes in the most endearing way, “Hey, Zoe.”

“I mean it in the nicest way possible. I’d be glad to give her style advice.”

Miles peered around Tristan to get a good look at the girl, “Zoe? Weren’t you on that show? How do you two know each other?”

“Well, we have some classes together, but we actually met this summer at a concert and it was love at first sight,” Zoe replied, linking arms with the boy beside her.

Maya was visibly appalled by someone else clinging to her bestie, “You know he’s gay, right?” she chimed teasingly. She and Zoe were actually roommates and while neither openly expressed dislike for the other, it was clear future bickering may ensue.

“Duh, that’s why I hooked him up with my co-star.”

Miles raised his caterpillar eyebrows, impressed, “You hooked up with a celebrity?”

“We did not hook up,” Tristan insisted, “We only went on like one date and it was with a group so it didn’t even count.”

“Did you at least make out?” Miles asked, a little too eager for an answer.

“Okay, let’s change the subject.”

Zoe interjected, “They totally did, trust me, I was there.”

“Nice one, Tris,” Miles playfully jabbed at the other boy’s side with his elbow, “Didn’t know you had it in you.” Tristan had to resist the urge to bury his face in his hands and die from embarrassment. He didn’t exactly want every detail of his love life out in the open.

Winston saved him from coming up with a suitable reply, “Sounds like every date Miles has ever been on. He takes a girl out, shows them a good time, then sends them on their way.” Tristan couldn’t help, but frown at the word “girl.”

Miles just scoffed, barely offended by the accusation, “At least I’ve been on a date.”

“Hey! Maybe I’m waiting for the right person.”

“Right person, Chewy? Try anyone.”

They laughed and teased about Winston’s nonexistent love life as well as other things for the remainder of their lunch time until the bell overhead signalled that they should make their way over to the academic building for class.

 

The rest of the week found the same routine. Tristan would wake up first and Miles would make them late for breakfast and one day even for first period. Then they wouldn’t see each other until lunch, but Miles would text Tristan during math since he insisted he wasn’t missing anything important. It was the first week so he couldn’t help but agree. They fell seamlessly into each other’s schedules.

Friday afternoon came around and Tristan found Miles strolling down the pavement after class. “Hey, Zoe just texted me. She said they’re having some friends over at her dorm tonight. If you’re not busy, we should stop by.”

“What like a party?”

Tristan reread the message on his phone, “She didn’t say. I’m guessing just a get together.”

“Will there be alcohol?” Miles asked, only half jokingly.

“My guess is no, considering it’s on school grounds.”

“Too bad,” he laughed, “You know what? Let’s go. Something interesting’s bound to happen,” with that he threw his arm around the other boy’s shoulder and they made their way down the sidewalk.


	4. I Found Zoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maya is drunk, Zoe throws a party, the hockey guys supply the booze, Tristan punches someone, and everyone thinks Miles and Tristan are a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: there is a small amount of homophobia/slurs in this chapter. this is purely for plot purposes and that's why i chose Luke Baker to play the role of a dick. 
> 
> also this chapter ended up really long and idk how i feel about that.

“Is this even allowed?” Miles asked.

“There’s technically no rule against it,” Tristan replied, dodging a flying couch pillow.

It was a little after eight o’clock and the two of them had just walked over to the south girls’ dormitory expecting a quaint get-together organized by Zoe and the ladies on her floor with pizza and root beer. Instead they strolled right into a full blown party in the commons. There were plastic cups on every tabletop, girls and boys prancing about the hardwood floors, and the thumping of music from a boombox on the other side of the room.

“What do you mean there’s no rule against this?”

“Of course the drinking isn’t allowed; it’s illegal. But students are allowed to organize parties, you know, for like birthdays and holidays and special events or whatever, as long as they don’t get out of control,” Tristan explained.

“Still, how’d they manage to make sure we’re not caught?”

In all honesty, Tristan didn’t know, but he didn’t need an answer because Maya came prancing over to them, a near empty Solo cup in hand. “Tristaaan!” she draped her arms over Tristan’s shoulders, standing on her toes so she could reach. Pressed with all her weight against him, she beamed, “I’m so so happy you could make it.” Then she kissed his cheek.

Tristan was relieved to see her like this. He knew two types of drunk Maya: giddy and mean, both equally reckless and a little too eager to kiss everyone. And that’s why he knew he should keep an eye on her. He peeled the girl off off him, holding her up by the elbows, “How much have you had to drink?”

“Just a little,” Maya pouted as if she was in trouble. She gave Miles the once over then cracked a smile, turning back to Tristan. “Is he your date?” she whispered loudly before laughing at her own joke. Tristan felt himself flush with embarrassment as he began to imagine how it’d be if he really was.

Miles laughed along with her, clearly amused by her drunken assumption. “We should lay her down on the sofa,” he directed Tristan.

“Shouldn’t we get her water or something?”

Maya fell forward at Tristan again, “I’m fineee.”

“No you’re not,” he looked over to Miles, a look pleading for assistance.

Miles caved, “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll go see what I can find.”

Tristan sat Maya down with him on the unoccupied side of the sofa, her squeezing into his side, then watched the brunette poorly navigate himself to an unopened bottle of water. When he did and crossed through the crowd of peers, he tossed it over to Tristan for him to uncap. With a thump, Miles plopped down on Maya’s other side and watched her sip obediently.

“It’s like 8:30, how is she this drunk?”

“Maya here’s a lightweight,” Tristan rubbed her shoulder, “And once you get one drink in her, she doesn’t wanna stop.”

Maya continued sipping when Zoe finally decided to show up to greet the boys, “Enjoying the party?”

The two of them hadn’t exactly gotten the chance to enjoy themselves, at all. The prefered action of both would have been to down a couple cups of whatever alcohol infused concoction was in the punch bowl or maybe a few beers then actually do things instead of sitting like their asses were glued to the cushions. Tristan honestly wanted to know what Miles was like with a few drinks in him.

Instead of answering Zoe’s question, Tristan responded with one of his own, “Don’t you guys have a room advisor?”

“Yeah. But she’s batshit crazy and we don’t even know where she’s at. She probably wouldn’t care even if she was here.” Zoe explained as if it wasn’t abnormal for their RA to be MIA. And there was also the issue of other faculty members making a surprise.

“Okay, then one more question. How’d you get the booze?”

“Oh yeah, that. The hockey guys brought it.”

“I should have guessed,” Tristan rolled his eyes. Judging by the confused look on Miles’ face, he wasn’t connecting the dots. The bleach blonde laughed and began to explain how the hockey team was Degrassi’s infinite supply of alcohol even when it wasn’t hockey season, and Zoe added her story of how the girls hadn’t planned on this big of party until they showed up and invited a ton of people. She wasn’t against their actions, though.

After a generous amount of meaningless chatter, Tristan stood up and announced, “Okay guys, I’m not just sitting around all night.” The song changed to one with a heavy recognizable beat, “Oh my god. I love this song,” he said while doing an excited gesture with his hands. As usual, Miles found it oddly charming.

Zoe held out her hand for the taking, “May I have this dance?”

“Of course,” Tristan took her palm in his formally as he stood and twirled her around. Zoe started to pull Tristan away before he turned his head back to the sofa, “Maya, I promise I will come check on you in a little bit.”

“I’m sure Miles can take care of her. Right, Miles?” Zoe said, though she wasn’t leaving it up for discussion.

“Yeah, why not? Maya’s pretty funny anyway. And hey, I bet I can get her to tell me all your secrets, too.”

 

Zoe managed to pull Tristan into the center of the herd of students dancing along to the beat before he could say anything in reply. He was easily caught up in belting out the lyrics and jumping around, so much so that he barely felt time go by. Eventually, Miles and Maya made it off the couch and separated to socialize with people other than each other and when Miles ran into Tristan, he assured him that Maya had reached a certain level of sobriety before he let her go off. Tristan told him to dance with them, leading him through the crowd and over to where Zoe was swinging her hips. Miles was strangely reluctant to dance, but a bit of encouragement did the trick.

 

Things settled down considerably within the next hour or so. Tristan stood against the wall while sipping a bottle of hard lemonade, listening to Winston vocalize his plan to get this girl’s number. His plan would ultimately fail, given he probably should have gone for someone less comely, but Tristan found it quite interesting to hear his thought process. As involved as he was and as many problems as he had of his own, Tristan was very much an observer. He had seen Winston stroll over to his lady of choice and fall flat on his face, figuratively. That’s all Tristan saw of the boy that night.

 

“Excuse me,” a puppy eyed girl tapped at his shoulder, “Are you Tristan? I’m Frankie.”

“Frankie…?” He needed clarification even if she was oddly familiar.

“Oh, sorry. Hollingsworth. I’m Miles’ sister.”

“That’s right, Miles mentioned you a couple times.”

Frankie smiled slightly, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. I’m sure he loves me, but he’d got an odd way of showing it.”

“So how did you know who I was?”

“Miles was telling me all about you. And when I asked Zoe if she knew you, she told me you were like best friends,” she explained, “Zoe’s actually the one who pointed you out to me.”

“So what kind of things is Miles telling you about me?”

“Don’t worry, nothing personal. He thinks you’re pretty cool though. We’ve only talked like twice since school started so he didn’t have enough time to share your deepest darkest secrets.”

Tristan turned to better face the curly haired brunette beside him, “Well, I’ve got all the time now. Why don’t you tell me his.”

“As much as I’d love to spill all his embarrassing stories, I’m nicer than that.”

“Too bad,” Tristan sank back against the wall, “I could really use some ammo in case I ever need to blackmail him.”

“Speaking of Miles, have you seen him around?”

“Not lately, he disappeared. Last I saw him was with Zoe.”

“And where’s Zoe?”

“No clue.”

 

When ten thirty rolled around, he figured he should find Zoe and tell her he was gonna head out. Curfew, meaning the time they had to be back in their respective drm buildings, on campus during the weekends is midnight and there wasn’t any reason Tristan needed to leave, but  there technically wasn’t a reason he needed to stay either. He scanned the room for Zoe, pressing his way past the other students. Last he’d seen of her was with Miles and he was no where to be seen as well. He spotted Maya, his last glimmer of hope, hope that she had any kind of clue where Zoe was. Maya seemed to have sobered up considerably and was currently in full on flirt mode with a few hockey guys who were all dressed as you would expect them to be. Most recognizable was Luke Baker and Tristan only knew who he was because his sister had been the one to quit last year’s play due to it having two male leads. His sister ended up pretty chill, but he was still visibly a douche.

“Have you seen Zoe?” Tristan questioned, not giving a care what he was interrupting.

Limpid, Maya uttered, “No, why?”

“I wanted to let her know I was heading back to my dorm, now. She disappeared though.”

Luke pushed his way into the conversation, overstepping his boundaries much, “Did you look for her in your purse?” he poked fun.

Tristan just glared at him, not having any of this shit. Plainly he said, “Do I look like I have a purse?”

“Well,” Luke looked back boastfully at his pals for their support, “I just thought a fag like you would-”

“Excuse me,” Tristan squared up to him, glaring.

“Oh, look who’s feisty. What are you gonna do? Go on, hit me.”

Abruptly and with unexpected aim, Tristan swung, punching the other guy precisely in the mouth, throwing his head back and causing him to falter slightly. This day marked the very first time Tristan hit someone in the face and it was quite cathartic. He shall forever remember this day. In the few seconds of recuperation that felt like an eternity, Tristan turned to a stunned Maya. “Oh my god,” he said by default since he hadn’t quite processed what happened. He felt a stinging in his knuckles.

“Not bad,” Luke voiced once reoriented. It wasn’t long before he lunged forward with a reciprocal hit. His fist slammed clean into Tristan’s temple, the force crashing him against the end table with the stereo and causing the stereo to crash onto the hardwood floor. Toppled over from having the edge of the table shoved in his gut and dizzy from the knuckle-sandwich, Tristan failed to get his shit together. They already had quite the audience gathering to gawk at the scene unfolding and the sudden lack of music drew people’s attention.

He hardly noticed Miles appear to help him up by the arm and say to Luke, “What the hell are you doing?!”

Luke smirked, his gums somewhat bleeding, and his posture made him look like he was the one winning this fight, “Are you his boyfriend, here to the rescue? Lord knows you people can’t fend for yourselves.”

Tristan was finally able to stand straight, but his dizziness was replaced with an intense pain spreading to his cheekbone. When he looked in front of him, he saw Miles shoving Luke out of his face and asking, “What’s your problem?”

“I’m not the one with the problem.”

That’s when all hell broke loose. In all honesty, the only leg up Miles had was his near sobriety since Luke was clearly more intoxicated, which might explain his complete lack of realization to how offensive he was being. Tristan felt guilty; it was sorta his fault and violence is never the answer. Luke and Miles seemed to find relative success dodging each other’s throws, yet it was unsettling to see how things were escalating. Luke shoved Miles into the wall, winding up for a punch before Miles kicked his knee straight into the other guy’s balls. Both were spewing vulgarity.

“Hey. Hey!” Zoe pushed through the gawkers, her assertive voice causing everyone to settle, “I want all of you,” pointing to those involved in the fighting, “out of here! Now!”

Maya, who had been their the whole time, just stated, “I found Zoe.”


	5. Mixed Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being exiled from the party at the girls' dorm, the boys head back to their place and Miles does something unexpected. But what does it mean?

“You didn’t have to fight for me, you know,” Tristan said greatfully. After being kicked out of the south girls’ dorm, they inevitably entered their own dorm building, only to find a few students stirring about the lower commons.

“I know,” Miles responded as he began to climb the stairs, “Those guys just deserved to have the crap kicked out of them.”

“Did you even know why we were fighting?”

“Doesn’t matter. I was happy to help.” A few boys from their floor walked past them as they turned down the hallway and you could here people bustling about their rooms, but otherwise the Miles and Tristan were alone.

The quiet air lingered a few seconds before Tristan spoke again. “Sorry everyone seems to think we’re a couple.”

Miles managed a small laugh then joked, “Hey, maybe we should just start dating then, since everyone already thinks we are.”

The offer wasn’t really on the table; Tristan knew that. So, he just laughed along and continued the banter, “Oh, but it would make so many people upset that the two most eligible bachelors are off the market.”

“Most eligible and most attractive,” Miles laughed, “Imagine how envious people would be.”

“Yeah, and imagine the looks we’d get from them. Like ‘Jealous much?’”

“And then I’d grab your face and kiss you right in front of them just to see how priceless their reactions are.” Miles pretended to reach for his face and lean in. Tristan laughed, using unlocking their door as a reason not to respond, kind of overwhelmed by what Miles had said and trying not to show it. “Okay the look on your face right now is hilarious.”

“Hm? You’re being ridiculous,” the blonde tried to look offended, but laughed.

“Am I?” Without warning, Miles clapped his palms onto the sides of Tristan’s jaw, before yanking the two of them together. He kissed the side of his mouth comedically, for all of one second. The brunette, satisfied with the outcome of his little improvisation, stepped back, a wicked grin on his face.

Tristan was stuck frozen in place, mouth left slightly open and his expression more confused than anything. And then he just said, “Yes, you are.” After that, they went inside their room to call it a night as if it never happened.

 

When morning came around again, Tristan woke to find Miles still fast asleep in his own bed. It was only around 9 o’clock, which surprised him considering he couldn’t fall asleep for most of the night, rather he was stuck awake with his brain racking in his skull. Stupid Miles and his stupid mixed messages.

Standing in front of the mirror, he grazed his fingers over the bruise that had spread down his temple and to his cheekbone, wincing when he touched the sensitive skin. He didn’t even bother trying to cover it up before leaving his dorm on his pursuit for Maya. Tristan needed to talk to her since she spent a considerable amount of time with Miles last night and, despite being heavily intoxicated, maybe she got to know him. If not then at least Tristan would have someone to vent to.

Maya proved to be a total inconvenience, not only not answering her texts or calls, but not being around when he checked her room and not telling anybody where the hell she was going. Great. He would have gone to Zoe, but she had a habit of liking the guys he liked. Not that Maya was any different, she already knew about his crush so the damage was done. Tristan would like to say he spent all day looking for her, but to be honest it was only a little after 10am when he headed back to his dorm and that was after stopping for a smoothie.

 

He spotted Zig lounging on the couch in the lower commons, his feet up on the coffee table they were not supposed to have their feet on and music jittering through a pair of earbuds. With an audible sigh, Tristan sat back into the armchair beside him.

When Zig noticed him, he took out one of his earbuds and probably lowered the volume since you could no longer hear it vibrating, “Dude. What’s up with your face?”

“Good morning to you, too,” Tristan uttered sarcastically at Zig’s acknowledgement of his bruise. “Have you seen Maya today?”

“Nah. She has some cello audition or something tonight. She’s probably off practicing.”

Funny, Zig is the only one who knows where she’s at. Internally laughing, Tristan thought about how Maya must feel in the head this morning after being so drunk the night before. Then he starting thinking about the other things that happened last night. “Ugh. I really needed someone to talk to.”

Zig shrugged his shoulders, figuring there was nothing better to do, “I’m someone.”

“I don’t think you’d wanna talk about guy problems.”

“I’m a guy.”

“Zig, I’m talking about guy problems as in potential boyfriend problems.”

“Oh,” he actually was surprised, “well I mean, it can’t be too different from girl problems, can it?”

“I guess not.”

Zig finally took out his other earbud, tossing the pair aside on the coffee table and giving Tristan his full attention, “So what is it?”

Thinking hard about how to word it, Tristan replied, “How can you tell the difference between someone just flirting with you and them actually being interested?”

“Well, that, my friend, depends on the person. Do I know him?”

“Maybe.”

“Come on just tell me. I can’t help unless you tell me.” Not true, but hey, Zig enjoyed learning everybody’s secrets.

Apparently, nobody is awake this early on a Saturday unless they had somewhere to be, so the two of them were alone, yet Tristan still lowered his voice before saying, “Fine. It’s Miles.”

“You know, I should have guessed. You two do spend a lot of time together.”

“We’re roommates.”

“Exactly and roommates usually get sick of each other. Trust me, Winston is a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“Do you think Miles is sick of me?” Tristan wasn’t too sure anymore. Yeah, Miles and him seemed to have a good time hanging out, but was he clingy?

“Honestly, he should be, but no. He seems to like spending time around you.” Zig waited for a reply, but none came. “So Miles has been flirting with you?”

Tristan nodded, decided whether or not he was going to say what he said next, “He also kissed me.”

“Oh.”

Quickly, he attempted to explain, “But it was when we were joking around and he barely got my lips.”

“How did he react?”

“I don’t know, I was too busy internally pissing myself.”

“Well has he said anything about it?”

“No, I left our room this morning before he woke up.”

“Wait,” Zig said, “This just happened last night?”

“Yeah that’s why I’m still kind of freaking out. In your opinion, from what you’ve seen or heard, do you think Miles is into guys?”

Zig was still sorta taking in the information and reasoning in his own mind, “As far as I know, he’s into chicks.”

“Yeah anyone could have figured that one. What I’m saying is do you think he might be bisexual or something?”

“What, like he swings both ways?” Zig’s confusion was almost laughable.

“It’s possible, right?”

“Maybe you’re  over thinking things.”

“Of course I’m overthinking things, it’s what I do,” Tristan spurt like it was obvious, “And I have a history of reading things horribly wrong so you’re probably right and-”  
“Woah,” Zig cut him off, “I never said it wasn’t possible. Why don’t you go talk to him.”

“You think? Cause I think that could also end horribly wrong.”

“It’s worth a shot. You’ll never know unless you ask.”

The blonde nodded standing up from his seat and maneuvering around the coffee table. Zig said something remotely motivational before sending the boy on his merry way.

 

Tristan took his phone out from his pocket and navigated to he and Miles’ text conversation, considering asking whether or not he was awake then deciding against it. If Miles was awake when he got upstairs, he would confront him straight up, and if not, then it was a sign that he shouldn’t mention it. In a way, this was Tristan giving himself a free way out, may the chance arise.

He hesitated, his palm firm against his door knob, as he heard movement coming from inside the room. Maybe it was just Miles turning about under the covers. But then again, maybe not. With a reaffirming inhale, Tristan turned the door knob and pushed his way into the room.

Miles was awake, sitting up against the wall on his bed. And he had company. Zoe lounged back with her legs draped over his lap and her head flat on the pillow, laughing up at the ceiling. She noticed the brunette’s attention move to Tristan as he waved causing her to change her focus as well and prop herself up on her elbows.

“Hey, Tris,” Zoe smiled, swinging her legs off the bed and sitting all the way up, “I just came to apologize for making you guys leave like that last night. Maya explained that it was all that bastard Luke’s fault.”

Miles spoke from behind, grinning and holding up a bottle of some amber colored beverage, “We got a present.”

“Seriously, Zoe? What if we get caught?” Tristan asked though he wasn’t all too serious.

“Don’t worry. I stored a ton of the leftover booze in Maya’s closet. And I wasn’t sure a verbal apology would be enough. You can never be too sure,” she stood up and put her hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Anyway, I gotta go, but you and I definitely need to hang out and catch up just the two of us.”

“Yeah.”

Zoe turned back to Miles, brushing her fingers against his ankle before saying goodbye. Tristan pretended not to notice. Both boys stayed quiet until they heard the door click shut.

“So what did you need?” Miles asked, his full attention on the blonde before him.

“Hm?”

“Oh, you just seemed like you had something to say.”

“No. Nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been busy with school work so I feel like another chapter was long over due. Anyway, I've kinda got an idea where I'm going with the story and the next chapter might be a little more Miles-centric.


	6. A Dinner with the Hollingsworths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month has passed since that first week. Not much has changed except Miles and Zoe are now "dating" for lack of a better term. On the bright side, it doesn't seem to have much effect on his relationship with anyone else. His friendship with Tristan, on the other hand, doesn't sit well with his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote sort of a long winded thing at the end if you want to know where I've been.

1 month later...

 

Talk about a shitty dinner. Miles’ parents were in town and made the glamorous decision to take everyone out to some fancy restaurant. Zoe was invited as well as Tristan because his father insisted that he and Tristan “got off on the wrong foot.” Not that it really mattered since Miles assured him that his father was as much of an ass then as he will always be. Tristan told Miles that he wouldn’t go if things weren’t okay, but after consideration of all the things that could go wrong, he figured Tristan would, if anything, have his back.

Zoe was just added pressure. They’d been dating for the past month, “dating” being used very loosely, yet according to his father, it was important that they meet this girl. Miles hadn’t even told his parents; it was Frankie who just happened to be close friends with Zoe now and who spilled the beans to daddy as soon as she got the chance. Both of Miles’ siblings would be joining them as well.

Miles sat across from his father, sipping his coke as he watched him utter shameless self-promotions about his mayoral campaign to the waiter who seemed disinterested. They were all seated at one of the round tables that could sit the seven of them with a fancy white tablecloth and wine glasses for everyone despite only two people being old enough to drink (not that that ever stop anyone). Tristan shoved a bite of his greek salad in his mouth just before someone caught his attention.

“So, Tristan,” Miles’ father spoke above everyone else, “what do you like to do?”

Tristan tried to swallow as quickly as possible, “Well, I’m mostly into theater. Something Zoe and I have in common.” He smiled at his friend who sat on the opposite side of Miles.

“Oh, a fine choice, I guess.”

Something told Tristan it wasn’t fine and so he quickly added, “But also like sports and stuff. I’m thinking about trying out for basketball this season.”

“I didn’t plague you as a sports kind of guy since you’re so-”

“Dad,” Miles interjected in a tone that said not to test him.

“No, it’s fine,” Tristan assured, “I get that a lot. But my brother was a huge athlete so I kinda picked up a liking to it along the way.”

Miles’ father turned to his eldest, “You’re trying out for the team here at Degrassi, right, Miles?”

“Yeah, I played at my old school so I might as well.”

“You know I like you to join these extracurriculars. They’re good for college applications and I need you to think ahead.”

Miles chuckled rolling his eyes, “Oh yeah, what about Hunter? It’s not like he does anything.”  

The younger brother glanced up from his phone, “I do plenty.”

“Like what?” Miles edged.

Their mother interjected, “Boys.”

Everyone settled. Miles had grown to no longer be embarrassed by his family’s outbursts. It was to the point where he just owned it and joined along because it was the only way to assert his high place in the family. They played this game where they would throw one another under the bus just to get to the top. And a few mistakes made Miles grasp for every last advantage he could find.

They ate their meal in a relatively calm manner after that, discussing topics that didn’t arouse much anger. Miles noticed Tristan getting along well with his siblings. It wasn’t often you could find someone who could test Frankie like he did. He would correct her on the smallest of things yet in the most endearing way so that she couldn’t get upset only slightly flustered. And he would tease hunter but never to the point he was pushing it too far. Knowing your boundaries is one of the truest signs of intelligence in Miles’ eyes and it must have taken years of overstepping the slightest inch to learn it.

Zoe held onto Miles’ hand above the table while she ate, rendering his right, dominant hand useless and since he was as far from ambidextrous as a person could get, eating became a sort of challenge. He didn’t mind holding her hand, he just would have prefered to eat in an easier manner. It was around the time they were ordering dessert that Miles noticed someone across the room looking at him strangely. Without question, it had to do with celebrity Zoe Rivas, yet something about the way he looked made Miles uneasy.

 

When dinner ended, Miles father decided to walk with the kids across campus and back to their dorms despite the chill in the October air. His mother told them she’d pull the car around then went the other way, leaving them to walk in sort of separate groups down the narrow sidewalk. Tristan and Miles’ dorm was the last stop they made.

“Miles, can I have a word before we take off?” his father stood stiff behind him, pulling at the hem of his sports coat. They stood outside the front doors of their dorm building. He spoke to Tristan, “Could you excuse us a minute?”

The blonde nodded awkwardly at his dismissal. “I’ll see you upstairs,” then he turned to Miles’ father, “It was nice seeing you again.”

Miles waited for the door to close, “What did you need?”

“You and that boy, have you been spending a lot of time together?” The question came out oddly and uncomfortably and Miles had a pretty good idea why.

“Actually, _Tristan_ and I have. And I don’t see why that’s a problem.”

“I just think... he just seems a bit…here, look at it this way”

“Why don’t you just say it, dad? You don’t want his _gay_ rubbing off on me,” Miles paused but he wasn’t finished speaking, “But before you go and pretend it’s something else, let me tell you this: Being around him isn’t gonna change anything. If it just so happens that I like guys, it would have been that way long before we met.”

“Look, Miles, I’m not trying to make a big deal out of this.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, what are you trying to do? And make your answer quick because I really don’t want to be standing out here all night.”

“I swear if you speak to me like that again I will have your head. I am trying to do what’s best for you and this family. That’s what I’m always trying to do.”

“Really? because it doesn’t feel that way.” Miles walked inside without another word.

 

When he got up to the room, Tristan was already settled and stepping into a pair of lounge pants. He snapped the waistband and turned to the brunette laughing, “Your dad hates me.”

It sounded almost as if he had heard their entire conversation downstairs. “He doesn’t-” Miles stopped himself when Tristan raised his eyebrows, “If it makes you feel any better, he probably hates me more.”

“Thanks,” he replied without a hint of offense, “What’d you do?”

“Nothing, he’s an ass.”

Tristan was unbuttoning his shirt while digging through his draw for something to sleep in, “So I’ve heard. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Fair enough,” Tristan let the silence sink a minute and finished throwing on a t-shirt, “How about we just talk? About anything.”

Miles looked up and saw that Tristan was smiling, “Sure, sounds great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could say this is long overdue but that's kind of obvious and the only real reason I have for that is that I was not in a good mental or emotional state during this past month and a half nearly. Usually writing really helps as sort of a "creative outlet" so to say, but this mental shutdown sent me into quite the writer's block. I'm not gonna say much more, I just want to explain a bit in case anyone was wondering.


	7. New News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles is a creep, but a cute one who has other things to worry about than accidentally falling asleep while watching his roommate sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gdi miles get your shit together.

After getting up to use the bathroom, Miles re entered their room to find Tristan passed out on his own bed, still half dressed, on top of the blankets. So much for talking, Miles thought, though he couldn’t really be mad at Tristan because he at least stayed up long enough to hear him complain about Chewy. And if he was able to fall asleep within the two minutes Miles took to pee then he must have been pretty tired.

Surprising enough, he looked quite peaceful despite being sprawled out with his leg hanging off the edge. Miles attempted to reposition him to the mattress without disturbing him which proved quite difficult considering he was dead weight. The blonde let out a soft snore, but otherwise didn’t stir. To finish the job, Miles took a blanket folded at the foot of the bed and tucked Tristan under it. He had fallen asleep in the t-shirt he wore under his blazer to dinner and a pair of boxer briefs, not that Miles noticed.

He knew what he had said to his father earlier that night was true, but he also knew that Tristan had some kind of effect on him. Miles sat beside the other boy’s bed with his forearms folded next to him and his chin resting on top, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he slept and the way his mouth fell open slightly. Before Miles knew it, he was fast asleep as well.

 

When he awoke, he was on the floor beside Tristan’s bed. Damn it, how creepy did that seem? There’s no normal way to say you accidentally fell asleep admiring someone’s face.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Tristan greeted from over by his closet while pulling out something to wear. He stood with his bare back to Miles.

“Morning,” he responded as he rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm.

Tristan laughed, finding a shirt and tugging it off the hanger, “So are you gonna explain why you’re on the floor?”

Miles hesitated, unsure, “Um…”

“Nevermind,” Tristan threw his shirt over his head and stepped over the other boy to move towards their mirror, “Your phone has blowing up all morning.”

Sitting up, Miles reached to where he’d left his phone on his desk last night. The battery was nearly drained and he had a crap ton of notifications, “People keep tweeting at me?”

“I thought you didn’t use your twitter.”

“I don’t,” Miles unlocked his phone to investigate the commotion, “Some Zoe Rivas fan saw us at the restaurant last night and took a bunch of pictures. Everyone’s wondering if we’re dating.”

“How’d they know who you are?”

Miles scrolled through some more tweets, “They linked it to my dad’s campaign.” Go figure.

Tristan leaned over his shoulder and only half jokingly asked, “Well, am I in any pictures? Did they get my good side?”

This explained why Miles was getting a funny feeling from last night. No offense, but he had never really considered Zoe a celebrity for some reason and he hadn’t expected something like this to happen. Apparently, he was very wrong.

 

They caught up with Zoe for breakfast before class, who was completely unfazed by the whole situation claiming that no matter what, if she went out with a guy the media would assume they were dating. She assured him that it’d pass within a week or so. For the time being, Miles turned off his notifications and pretended like nothing happened. Zoe also promised a date on campus where they’d be quote unquote safe.

Aside from the morning’s little blip, the day went on without a hitch except the fact that it was a Monday, they had their first big history test tomorrow, and Miles was in one of his post-argument-with-his-dad moods. He couldn’t really be bothered by that though. He had other things on his mind, including his new found awareness towards his roommate. During math, Miles didn’t find himself in his normal state of dozing off. Instead, he was texting Tristan who was apparently in the middle of some boring english assignment. Tristan was also snapchatting him pictures of other students and selfies of him and Maya which Miles found to be the perfect distraction from polynomials.

It was during dinner that Miles was thankful that the tables in the dining hall were less crowded than during lunch because he didn’t think he could take sitting that close to Tristan. Okay, so maybe he was crushing. But just like his photos of him at dinner, it would pass.

 

It was after dinner when the crew decided to do a last minute cram session for the history test, crew meaning Miles, Tristan, Zoe, Winston, and Maya who would invite Zig who would bring along some of his friends. The guys were gonna grab their books from their rooms and meet at the girls dormitory.

“Do we have to study?” Tristan whined, dropping his head against his pillow dramatically.

Miles opened his bookbag for his things, “Better safe than sorry, I guess.”

“I’m doing fine in the class. Just go without me,” he responded.

In all honesty, he was, but Miles would rather have Tristan in his company, “No, you’re coming.”

“Fine,” Tristan sighed, exaggeratedly, beginning to stand up, “Let’s get going then.”

Suddenly, Miles felt his phone buzzing and pulled it out, looking at the screen confused, “Hold that thought. My mom’s calling. I should probably take this.” Tristan just fell back onto the bed.

Miles stepped into the hall, pressing the green button to answer as he closed the door behind him, “Hey, mom.” She usually never called, only texted or asked Frankie to deliver a message. And it had barely been twentyfour hours since she last saw him.

“Hey, honey. I wanted to talk to you about something,” she paused a moment. “You know those photos circling from dinner last night.”

He’d been trying to ignore it. “Yeah, sure,” was his reply, being unsure of what she was getting at.

“Good news. The new attention to you has added to the attention on your father’s campaign.”

Miles sighed, leaning against the door, “Good for him. But I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Look, Miles, we think it would be in everyone’s best interest if you and Zoe went even more public with your relationship. It might be hard seeing as you’re stuck on school grounds, but you could post on social media and what not.”

“You mean in dad’s best interest.”

“Your father and I discussed it this morning and he needs the younger vote. This is the perfect opportunity to gain attention.”

“Yeah and what happens if or when we break up?”

His mother took a moment to respond, “We were hoping that for the sake of the campaign, you try not to stir anything. It’s only a couple months.”

Growing flustered, Miles near shouted, “I swear everything is about his fucking campaign! I’m hours away and it still follows me everywhere.”

“Miles,” his mother attempted to speak calmly.

“No, mom, he’s the one running for mayor not me. I’m not doing it.”

“I’m not asking much of you. You should at least do it because he’s family.”

“Really? Because I don’t feel like family. Is that why he sent me away for school? I thought it was because he didn’t want me anywhere near his campaign. But suddenly I’m family when it’s beneficial to him.”

“Miles, your father just-”

“I’m sorry,” he interjected, “I’m done talking about this.”

And with that he hung up the phone. It wasn’t his place to be mad at his mom since she was just a messenger for his father, he just couldn’t handle any more. That paired with what his dad said to him last night was too much. He hit his head against the door with a thud and took a moment to collect himself before reentering their room. Tristan was still laying back on the bed, now throwing a wad of paper up in the air and catching it on the way down.

“Are you alright?” he propped himself up. “I couldn’t hear what about but things seemed pretty heated.”

“You didn’t really want to study, right?”

Tristan stared, confused, “Um… right?”

“Good, then change of plans.” Miles went over to his drawer, pushing some of his clothes out of the way and pulling something out from the very bottom. With a smirk, he held up the bottle of whiskey Zoe had gifted them over a month ago. 


	8. What Happens Before a Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kissing, shampoo, tickling, whiskey, the "gay thing" and 4th graders (in no particular order). Aka: Zig has once gotten drunk on a Monday and he doesn't recommend it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fucking mess. And I kind of like it. I don't even know how I managed to make it this many words but whatever. Also, this is obviously not a first hand retelling considering Miles and Tristan probably don't remember most of the night.

Miles and Tristan’s beds were a leg length apart. They knew this because they were sat on the floor across from each other, both of their backs against their own bed and their feet threatening to go under the other. Their right legs were pressed together as they passed the bottle back and forth. It didn’t take much for either of them to become tipsy.

They stopped once they felt the effects of the alcohol, knowing they had school in the morning and a test after lunch. Miles basically spent the next hour and a half explaining his family situation and hoping for some kind of support.

It was a little later when Tristan suggested they open up the bottle of whiskey again for a few more drinks to lighten things up, this time well surpassing tipsy. The plan wasn’t to get drunk, but it sure as hell happened.

That’s when things got good. A lighter mood than before Miles had “feeling vomited” all over his roommate, they decided it was time to leave the room and venture out into the unknown. Or at least the rest of their dorm building. It was Miles’ idea to go out but they had no real plan of action except use the bathroom because he really had to pee. The entire journey down the hall, Tristan clung to his shoulders, loudly telling a tale about the time his aunt’s dog peed on his brother, Miles couldn’t tell if it even made any sense. He would have told him to stay quiet but it was too funny. When they finished in the bathroom, they exited to find their room advisor treading down the other end of the hall. That was their cue to make a run for it.

 

Soon enough, they were back in their original position on the carpet of their own room, with their legs pressed together and Tristan poking Miles’ hip with his toes. “Tell me about your parents,” Miles was tracing his finger up and down Tristan’s shin as he talked. “It’s your turn to chat my ear off.”

“Fine,” he agreed. “My parents are pretty decent individually, but both very stubborn especially with one another. That’s probably why they divorced.”

“Man, I wish my parents would divorce already. Their marriage is a sham. A sham, I tell you,” Miles responded drunkenly.

“From what you told me. I can’t argue with that.”

“Now here’s what I’ve been wondering. How are your parents about the whole gay thing?”

Tristan laughed at the way he phrased the question, “My mom’s chill and my dad’s cool about the “gay thing,” not so much the actor thing but it’s whatever.”

“That sucks. Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Shoot.”

“When did you know you liked guys?”

“Oh, I don’t know. At first I thought I liked girls because the only friends I had were girls. But then I learned what ‘liking someone’ actually meant. So I didn’t think much about it until like fourth grade. That was around the time I realized I was fat, but that’s besides the point. This is the story of my first crush, mind you, so that means I trust you and you better be thankful.” Tristan hiccupped.

Noticing how drunk his roommate was, Miles laughed, “Okay, just tell the story.”

“So there was this boy who sat next to me and this boy was a little player, you know, dated all the girls in class even though looking back on it he was an asshole. But he sat next to me and he’d put his feet up on my chair so that he was facing me when we talked and we’d always be partners on assignments even when we could pick anyone else,” Tristan described it as if it was his most prized accomplishment, “Maybe it was because I actually payed attention in class unlike his other friends. Aaanywho, he was actually nice to me, maybe not any of those girls he dated, but he didn’t mind that I was into different stuff, ya know, and I’m rambling, aren’t I? I’ll shut up now.”

“No, keep going. I like listening to you talk,” Miles assured him, smiling.

“That’s honestly it.”

“Whatever happened to this kid?”

Tristan sighed, “He moved away before middle school, I think? Which I guess is a good thing because middle school me was cringeworthy. Oh, and going back to how I knew I was gay. I’ve kissed a couple girls and it’s not for me.”

“I like kissing girls,” Miles stated.

Tristan chuckled at his bluntness, “Congrats.”

“But I’ve never kissed a guy.”

“Lies. You’re a liar who lies. You kissed me after that party, remember?” He pointed out drunkenly.

“Oh, that doesn’t count. It was over before it started. A missed opportunity.”

Tristan wouldn’t have had the balls to say this if he weren’t intoxicated, “We should try again, then.”

“We should.” Neither of them knew what to do after that besides sit there and Tristan was like sixty five percent sure Miles was joking. Miles just dropped his head back onto the mattress.

“You know what we should do?” he asked after a moment.

“What?”

“We should dance,” Miles stood up quickly, grabbing Tristan by the wrists and trying to pull him into some standing position. Stubbornly, Tristan resisted, keeping his weight firm on the ground the best he could. Miles had nearly gotten him up when he dropped back onto to carpet, taking Miles down with him as he fell back onto his ass letting go of the other boys wrists. It was mostly funny to him.

 

“Tristan, why do you like me?”

“What the hell does that mean?” Tristan giggled. He was sliding down on the carpet so his neck was bent weird against the bed frame.

Miles tucked his legs under each other as he sat forward, “Other than being my roommate, why do you put up with me?”

“I don’t know,” he shyly glanced at his hands.

Facing Tristan with his legs criss cross applesauce fashion, Miles rested his elbows on his knees and looked up at him, “Come on, there’s gotta be a reason.”

“I-” Tristan saw the innocent smile on his face and lost all train of thought, not that he had much to begin with. Miles was just waiting without taking his eyes off of him. “Because it’s you.”

Miles didn’t say anything. But his face softened and he continued to look up at the boy before him. His neck stiffening, Tristan sat up and as he did, Miles straightened his back as well, leaving the two face to face. He smelt like alcohol. Miles hadn’t taken his eyes away and now Tristan couldn’t either. Taking a deep breath, Tristan leaned in. Their faces inches apart, he found it hard to think anything so he didn’t. He just closed the gap.

The kiss was chaste, but Miles hadn’t tried to stop it. When they pulled apart, Tristan couldn’t read his expression until the grin from earlier crept onto his face. Tristan awkwardly scooted back against his bed, hiding his face when he couldn’t help but smile. But Miles followed him, moving so they were as close as before and clumsily straddling the other boy. He pulled Tristan closer by the waist, getting dangerously close to kissing him again.

That’s when he did it, not kiss him, but something else. Where Miles rested his fingers just above Tristan’s hipbones, he squeezed causing a squeal from the blonde. Content with the reaction, Miles continued his tickle barrage.

Finding it hard to breathe properly from laughing and squirming, Tristan managed to let out a few sharp words, “Miles, stop, please.” He tried to sound angry but it was hard when he was grinning so much. Miles moved to tickle his neck, causing him to tense up and raise his shoulders to his ears. He tried to wiggle out from under him but he was trapped, “Oh my god, seriously.”

“Fine,” Miles let his hands rest on Tristan’s shoulders. Big mistake.

Tristan took the opportunity to get revenge by reaching up under Miles’ shirt and jabbing at his sides. “No fair,” Miles breathed, sitting up on his knees. When he did, Tristan just saw in as another opportunity and tickled at the back of Miles’ knees. “Tris!”

“I think it’s very fair.”

Miles sat back down in the other boys’ lap so he couldn’t tickle his weak spot then proceeded to move his fingers back to Tristan’s neck, causing both of them to lose their breath in a fit of laughter. Tristan’s hands were back under Miles’ shirt and tickling diligently.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, Tristan blurted, “Okay, okay. Truce?” He stopped first, but he left his hands where they were.

“Truce,” Miles once again moved his hands down to Tristan shoulders. They sat without speaking again, mostly because they were out of breathe. This time it was oddly more comfortable, though, despite their position, Miles with his knees on either side of Tristan. He  was still laughing, too, and staring at the other boy’s lips as they curled into a smile. Neither of them noticed the closeness until their foreheads finally touched together. And then Miles finally leaned in to kiss him, more eager than before. Letting his hands roam under the brunette's shirt, Tristan smiled into the kiss.

Unannounced, someone barged through the door. “Hey, Tristan, can I borrow your shampoo? Mine’s-” Miles jumped off of Tristan when they heard him, but his one leg was still draped over his lap. Zig stood wide eyed in front of them, mouth hanging open, unsure what to say. He probably just got back from studying and he probably wished he had knocked. What time was it?

This wasn’t what it looked like. Sure, they had kissed before, but the flushed faces and the heavy breathing was as far from sexual as it could get. Kinda. Their position and the tension left over afterwards might have suggested otherwise.

“Um,” Miles said. Then without looking at Zig, he pointed to their dresser, “It’s in the basket with his other stuff.”

“You want some?” Tristan grabbed the bottle of whiskey from where they left it on the desk, offering it to Zig. Miles had to hold back his laughter because he was shocked at his ballsy suggestion.

Zig crossed the room and grabbed what he needed awkwardly, “No thanks. Last time I got drunk on a Monday I did something that I regretted in the morning. But you kids have fun.”

“Suit yourself,” Tristan tossed the bottle to the side back where it was.

Zig went to leave and then turned to say, “Also warning, you’ll be feeling that in the morning. Vodka may have been your smarter choice. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about ‘this’.”

When the door finally clicked shut again, Miles grinned looking for a new way to pass the time. He put one hand over the other on Tristan's shoulder then rested his chin on them both. "I like you,” he confessed, loudly.

The words didn't sound right. Maybe because they were slightly slurred or maybe because Miles had a thing with his best friend or maybe because it came out of no where. As unexpected as they were, they sounded truthful. But without context, Tristan had no clue what to think of them. All he knew was that it was suddenly hard to look Miles in the eye.

He maneuvered out from under him. "We should go to bed."

"I thought we were having fun."

"It's late. We have that test tomorrow."

Miles slumped, seeming disappointed, "Right." He stood up and undressed before crawling under his covers and saying, "Good night."

"Night," Tristan replied. He was fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  
  


“Crap, Miles. Wake up.”

Miles opened his eyes to see Tristan scrambling out of bed. The sun was coming in brightly through their window, “What time is it?”

“It’s almost twelve thirty. We have like ten minutes to make it across campus for our history test,” Tristan was holding his head as he pulled on a pair of shorts. “Do you have anything I can take for a head ache?”

“Shit,” Miles jumped out from under the covers, “Yeah, top drawer.”

Was Miles really not going to say anything about last night? Did he even remember? Granted, Tristan didn’t even remember most of the night, but it was clear in his mind that something happened between them.

Miles quickly put on a pair of sweatpants from off the floor without realizing they said “drama club” in bold lettering down the leg. 


	9. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Tristan nor Miles want to talk about last night, but for some reason, Zig really does? And Zoe wants to make things official.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *britney voice*  
> it's been a while.  
> I kind of only sort of half know what i'm doing

They got off easy to say the least. A zero on the test and a stern talking to from Mr. Perino were nothing compared to what could have happened if they weren’t so lucky. It was probably because Perino didn’t wanna deal with the paperwork of suspending two hung over students who came rushing into his class just as soon as he finished administering the test. And maybe it had something to do with Miles begging him to not tell his parents, which is why he had to see the counselor that afternoon and Tristan didn’t.

The counselor was real sweet, tossing pamphlet after pamphlet about how to form good relationships at Miles for him to toss into his bag, always with a cheeky smile on her face. She kept on telling him to “get involved, find a hobby” and at this point it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Now, Miles was strolling across campus looking like a hot mess. He had Tristan’s sweatpants rolled to the knees and his backpack slung over one shoulder. A pair of black sunglasses blocked out the sun, but honestly he wasn’t feeling all that terrible.

Someone came up behind him, jumping on his shoulders. “Nice pants,” Zoe smiled up at him.

Miles stuck out his leg and made sure to emphasize the “drama club” lettering, “Oh, these old things? If you don’t mind I was running late today. These were the first thing I grabbed.”

“Yeah, I know. Everyone is talking about it.”

“Let them think what they want.”

“It’s nothing serious,” Zoe assured him. “If anything, people find it funny.”

“Well, Tristan did basically fall through the door.”

Zoe chuckled and then there was a pause, “So what happened last night?”

What did happen last night? Miles pretty much made out with his best friend; he remembered that much. But it probably isn’t smart to say that to the girl he’s had a thing with for the past month.

“I was in a bad mood and suggested we crack open that bottle whiskey. You know, the one you gave us.”

Zoe scoffed a laugh, “Hey, this isn’t my fault.”

“I was just kidding. As you probably guessed, things got out of hand.”

“Is it something to do with your parents?”

Miles stopped in his tracks and turned to her, confused, “How’d you guess that?”

“Well, your mom called me last night,” Zoe explained, “And she told me about how we could help the campaign.”

“Not you, too,” he began walking again.

Zoe stumbled after him, “I didn’t agree to it. I wouldn’t without talking to you first. But it did get me thinking…”

“About what?” Miles had calmed and slowed his pace so that Zoe could walk beside him again.

“Maybe we  _ should _ make things official. Not for the public eye, but just for us.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Miles joked, but he sounded nervous.

Zoe punched him in the arm, fake-offended, “I’m serious. I just figured since we have so much fun together, we could maybe have fun exclusively.” She raised her eyebrows.

Miles didn’t answer and his face read of nothing. His mind was going a million miles a minute yet getting nowhere. Finally, Zoe sighed, looking at the ground, and he realized she deserved an answer, “Can I get back to you on that?

“You didn’t find someone better did you?” Zoe tried to keep things light with sarcasm despite her actual doubt.

“I’m just not sure it’s what I need, what with everything happening right now.”

“Fair enough. Just don’t take  _ too  _ long. Because it is what I need.” 

 

Tristan sat at a table with his head in this hands and his hoodie zipped up to the neck. Zoe recommended they get coffee at the Dot, the only cafe on campus, and he was seriously regretting it. He looked and felt like crap and today just happened to be the day that the cute barista was working. That and he was still trying to sort out whatever the hell happened last night.

Zig slid into the seat across from him. “Hey, loverboy,” he smirked.

With a sigh, Tristan threw off his hood, “Oh my gooood. What do you want?”

“I’m waiting for Maya and Grace,” Zig shrugged. Then in a baby voice he continued, ruffling Tristan’s hair, “And I thought I’d check in on you.”

Tristan scrunched his nose and pulled away, “I’m fine, thanks.”

“And how’s Miles?” 

“Just dandy,” he replied, obviously sarcastic. “Hasn’t even mentioned it.”

Zig folded his arms, to lean on the table, “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No, don’t bother. I can think of like twenty reasons that’s a bad idea and since Miles probably doesn’t even remember, it’s better if you don’t poke the bear. And besides, I’m throwing myself into my work. I’ll be auditioning for the musical and won’t even have time for anything else.”

The bell on the door jangled as Grace opened the door. Together, her and Maya walked over to the two boys. “Hey, Tris. Are you joining us?” Maya asked, a little surprised.

Tristan looked out the window to see if his company was coming, “I was actually just waiting for Zoe.”

“We can all sit together, right?” Zig said. Reluctantly, Tristan got up and they all moved over to a bigger table with five seats in the center of the cafe. 

Once they were settled, the bell on the door jingled again and in walks Zoe with Miles in tow. Perfect. They were a little confused why the whole crew had decided to show up, but when Maya explained that they just ran into each other, Miles pulled up a sixth seat and squeezed in between Tristan and Zoe.

“We should go order,” Grace suggested.

Zoe stood up, “I got it. I mean, you guys are paying, but I’ll go order.”

“I’ll help,” Tristan pushed out his chair and got to his feet as well. “What does everyone want?”

Everyone shouted out their orders: a coke for zig, a mocha frappe for maya, and an iced tea for grace. Miles turned his head up to face Tristan, “The usual.” So that meant a black coffee with seven sugars which was fucking gross, but that’s probably why he didn’t say it out loud.

Miles watched as Tristan ordered, trying his best to be polite when he probably wanted to murder everything. The way the barista smiled back made Miles realize he wasn’t the only one who was appreciating Tristan’s messy hair. Suddenly, he felt a jab in his shin under the table and looked over to see Zig smirking. Grace and Maya were chatting about some Tiny thing, but Zig had caught him in the act.

While Tristan stood at the counter, dumping packet after packet of sugar into Miles’ coffee, Zoe spoke beside him pensively and quietly. “So I asked Miles to make things official today.”

“And what did he say?” Tristan didn’t look up.

Zoe folded her arms, “He said he needed time, which is understandable. He’s just such a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“You can say that again.”

“But I really like him, like,  _ really  _ like him.”

Of course she did.

 

Miles found Zig again later in the common area of their dorms, staring at something on the bulletin board. When he got close enough, it was obvious Zig was signing his name on a sheet of paper.

“The Wizard of Oz?”

Zig craned his neck to see Miles peering over his shoulder, “Yeah, I’m auditioning. Maya recommended it after she saw my awesome dancing skills.” Zig twirled his hips.

“Of course she did,” Miles nodded, sarcastically. “Maybe I should sign up to work on props or something. I need something to occupy me” 

“Funny,” Zig pondered, “that’s exactly what Tris is using it for.” 

“Huh?”

Zig ignored him, changing the topic but also kind of not, “So how are you and loverboy?”

“How am I supposed to know? He hasn’t said a word about last night.” 

“So do you want to talk about it?” 

“I’m desperate enough to talk to you, aren’t I?”

Zig through his arms up in surrender, “Wow, okay. Um, what does this mean for you and Zoe?” 

“We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend, are we?” Miles all too quickly pointed out.

“Well, was the kissing boys a one time thing or…?” Zig searched for the right words then settled on the bluntest, “Are you still straight? Or are you gay now?”

“None of the above, but that’s not important. And I don’t even know why I thought talking to you was a good idea.”

“Because I’m your only option. Unless you actually get the balls to talk to Tristan.”

Miles just looked up at the ceiling, defeated. Zig tried reading into his body language, “Wait a minute,” he said, “You really, genuinely like him.”

“What do I do?” Miles asked.

“I’ll let you in on a secret. Tristan is waiting for you to talk first.”

Miles knew it was what he had to do. Confront what happened, that is. His counselor said earlier that the key to successful relationships was communication. But it was the sheer uncertainty of what would come after and what would change that kept him from taking that step. And what it all meant.

“But hey, if you’d rather ignore your feelings-”

“I’m not. I should probably just tell Tris.” 

“Tell me what?” Tristan stood behind him with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Panicked, Miles responded with the first thing he could think, “That I’m signing up for the musical.”

Confused, Tristan smiled then grabbed the pen from its clip on the board. “Well, that makes,” he saw Zig’s name written, too, “three of us?”

 

Back in their bedroom, Miles fell back on his bed, exhausted, while Tristan tossed things into his shower caddy. It was the first times they’d been alone since this morning and neither could say anything besides small talk which meant they were both trying to avoid saying the big things. And Tristan was determined to make sure nothing changed from before. Last night was meaningless as long as they didn’t try to make it mean anything. 

Tristan finished gathering his things and was about to head down the hall to shower when Miles lifted his head from the bed and stared at him.

“What?” Tristan asked.

“Did Zig ever give you back your shampoo?”

Pointing outside, Tristan answered, “Nah, I have to get it on the way.”

He stepped out into the hall and as soon as he clicked the door shut it hit him like a bullet.  _ What did Miles say?  _ If he remembered Zig barging in then he had to remember the rest.

Tristan reopened the door as quickly as he closed it. Miles was sitting up now and looking expectantly at Tristan. “You remember?”

Miles bit his lip, breathing in through his nose, “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Miles laughed, although you could hear his nerves.

Tristan sighed, “I figured you wanted to forget it happened. Or you already did.”

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Drunk enough to kiss me.”

“I didn’t need to be drunk to do that,” Miles corrected him. Tristan stood with his mouth open, sort of beginning to form words but no sound came out. Plopping back on his bed, Miles interrupted whatever might have been said, “Go shower. We’ll talk after.”


	10. Bad Communication Skills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zig is actually kind of smart but then kind of not smart and sort of ruins things. Miles in way too deep.

When Tristan finished in the bathroom, Miles was still awake, lying flat against the bed tossing a rolled up pair of socks in the air. His bare feet hung over the side.

“That's gross.”

Miles smiled when he saw the blonde standing over him and tossed the socks across the room into his hamper. He watched as Tristan pulled on a pair of boxer under his bathrobe before letting it drop to the ground. He let his eyes trace every curve of Tristan's back.

After tossing a worn t-shirt whose black color had faded to a warm gray over his head, Tristan sat down on the edge of his bed and waited for Miles to say something. Instead, Miles sat up and patted the spot beside him.

“You know you're one of my best friends, right?” Miles asked trying to make eye contact.

Tristan stared at his lap. “Look, we can just forget it happened.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Tristan finally looked up and made eye contact. 

Miles was grinning. “No.”

Tristan couldn't help but laugh and despite how awkward it was, he felt oddly comfortable. And Miles couldn't take his eyes off of him.

“So we're okay?” Tristan asked, more seriously now.

Miles nodded, “Yeah, we're more than okay.”

“This doesn't change anything.”

Although he was confused, Miles agreed, “Right.”

“It's not like I'm gonna fall in love with you over a few kisses I barely remember.”

Miles exhaled, “That makes two of us.”

Tristan nodded his head, “We’re just good friends with a good story to tell their kids someday.”

“Of course, just friends,” Miles stated, but it was almost more of a question.

Tristan stood up, “We should probably get some sleep. We been kind of bad at that lately.”

And Miles fell asleep feeling like they'd solved nothing. But one thing was for sure: he couldn't be just friends with Tristan.

 

The following day, after class, Zig found Tristan sitting on the couch with Miles across from him, tossing popcorn in the air for the other boy to catch.

“So I see you two worked things out,” Zig said, leaning on the couch behind them.

“Yup,” Tristan smiled. “Now, things are back to normal.”

“Normal?” Zig asked.

“Yeah,” Tristan reply, “only problem is we’re running out of popcorn so I will be right back.” Tristan jumped up from his seat, grabbing the bowl and skipping away.

Once he was out of earshot, Zig spoke again, “So just friends, huh?”

“It's what Tristan wanted.”

Zig hit him upside the head, “No, it's not, you idiot.”

“How do u know? I talked with him. And anyway why would he say he wanted to be just friends if he wanted more?”

“Because there's a little problem stopping you from getting together,” Zig explained, “starts with a z…”

“You?” Miles guessed.

“No, Zoe, Tristan's best friend, the girl you've been fooling around with, the girl who is known to lash out when something doesn't go her way.”

Miles sighed, “I was gonna talk to her and end things. They were getting too serious anyway, but then Tristan said it didn't mean anything and I decided against it.”

“Maybe you should figure things with her first,” Zig suggested, “and then see where Tristan stands.”

“I got the popcorn,” Tristan came skipping back into the commons. “Careful though, it's hot.” Zig and Miles both looked serious. “Okay, why so sombre?” 

“It's nothing,” Miles said, “I just remembered something I needed to do.”

 

Miles spent the afternoon and the days following contemplating what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. He almost backed out a million times, but everytime, Tristan would pop up in the back of his mind. It took a few day but finally, he knew what he had to do; he sent Zoe a text:  _ We need to talk. _

She met him with a reply within a few seconds:  _ meet me in my dorm in 15. _

Miles didn't know what he was holding onto. It wasn't like he and Zoe were ever anything serious. It was fun and easy and predictable. And maybe that's why liking Tristan scared him, because it was unpredictable.

Fifteen minutes later, Miles showed up at Zoe's dorm, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. Maya opened it and turned to Zoe, knowing it was for her.

“Maya, could you give us a minute?” Zoe asked.

“Sure,” Maya said, waving to the two of them before walking out.

Miles sat in one of the office chairs across from Zoe, afraid to get too close. 

“Are you finally ready to take me up on that offer and make thing official?” Zoe flirted though she sounded nervous. Miles was sure she knew what was coming.

“I think we should break up,” he said matter of fact.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I'm just not feeling this anymore.”

“There's someone else, isn't there?” Zoe shook her head, “Zig warned me about you.”

“Since when do you and Zig talk?”

“Since Zig asked me out yesterday thinking you'd moved on!” Zoe raised her voice.

“What else did he say?”

“He said it was none of his business. Or mine.”

Miles crossed his arms, “I didn't cheat. We were never exclusive-”

Zoe rolled her eyes, “And yet you still felt the need to keep it a secret and lead me to think I meant something more.”

“I'm sorry,” Miles tried apologizing.

“Just go,” Zoe said, “Leave.”

 

A few minutes later, Tristan received a text from Maya:  _ Miles and Zoe just broke up. _


	11. Sorry, but I have to hate you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe's on the war path, Tristan and Miles are secret friends, and Winston is very confused.

Zoe stabbed her salad angrily with her fork, “Stupid Miles and his stupid ‘non-exclusive’ relationships. Who does he think he is? The bachelor?”

Tristan sat across from her and one of the back tables of the dot. “Chill out, Zo. He doesn't deserve you. He's an idiot, trust me I live with him.” 

“You damn right he doesn't deserve me. I just can't stop thinking about him doing god know what with that other girl.”

“Just give it time. As of now, Miles will be enemy numero uno for me as well.”

“Really?” Zoe asked.

“Really. Your friendship means so much more to me. Pinky promise,” Tristan held out his finger.

Zoe latched onto it. “You're the best, you know that, right?”

“I know,” Tristan pretend flicked his hair out of his face. He just couldn't help but feel guilty about what happened just a week earlier. He was kind of the reason they broke up. But that was all behind him now.

“If I ever find out who that other girl is, and trust me, I will,” Zoe shook her head, “she's gonna get a piece of me. Miles never told you, did he?” 

“No, and the only person he ever has in our room is winston and I seriously doubt they're getting up to anything dirty.” Tristan mentally gagged.

“Thanks anyway,” Zoe smiled slightly, “I'm glad I have you to get me through this.”

 

Tristan stood in history class, talking with a group of classmates the next day. Suddenly, Miles came up behind him, encasing him in a bear hug. Tristan shrugged him off.

“What?” Miles asked, confused, though he was still smiling.

“Would you excuse us for a moment?” Tristan said to the students around him. Then he grabbed Miles by the shirt collar and dragged him out into the hall.

“We can't be friends,” Tristan said, pulling Miles around the corner.

“Okay, am I missing something?” Miles asked.

“If you haven't realized, Zoe hates you, which means I have to hate you. By proxy. Not to mention she's one the war path to find out who the ‘other woman’ is and I really do not want to see the look on her face when she finds out it's me.”

“I don't think we'll have a problem there,” Miles laughed.

“And why is that?”

“Because she's looking for another girl. And the last time I checked, you don't qualify.”

Tristan had to fight his smile, “Still. We can't be friends. I promised Zoe I'd hate you. Also, sorry about that.”

“No reason we can't be secret friends, right?” 

Tristan squinted his eyes, “Man, you really do like me.” 

_ More than you know,  _ Miles thought. “Yes.”

“Well, I guess this could work.”

 

“Am I a horrible person?” Tristan asked the ceiling. 

Maya spun around in her desk chair, “No, you just don't wanna hurt anyone's feelings. I think it's stupid when people expect you to pick a side in a break up.”

Tristan sat up from where he lay on Maya’s bed. She didn't know what really happened between him and Miles, but she knew that he never wanted to jeopardize any friendship. 

“Tell me what I should do. Is it crappy that I'm keeping it a secret?” 

“I think it's crappy they expect you to.”

“Miles doesn't though. He's fine that I'm still friends with Zoe. It's Zoe who'd kill me for being friends with Miles.”

Maya sighed, “Well, I can't tell you what to do. But if I could, I'd say do whatever you can to keep them both as friends. It's better to have friends than enemies.”

“You know what,” Tristan said, “This could be fun. Sneaking around and all.” 

“You always said it's sexier when it's secret,” Maya joked.

Tristan forced a laugh, “Yeah, of course.”

 

So maybe Tristan started to take the “fun” part a little too far. He'd gotten so used to hanging out with Miles when they were alone that it was a nice change (not to mention good acting practice) to pretend to hate him in public. And then during class when no one was looking, they'd make eye contact from across the room and Tristan would wink at Miles to make him to squirm. 

So Miles got him back. When Tristan and Zoe hung out, Miles would blow up Tristan's phone so he'd have to make up excuses for why it buzzed like crazy.

No one had caught on to what the two of them were doing until Winston mentioned it to Miles one day.

“Why has Tristan been so flirty around you?” Winston said over breakfast.

“I don't know what you're talking about. He's been messing with me because Zoe can't know we're friends. That's hardly flirting.”

“Really? Because last time I checked, purposely dropping something and then bending over to pick it up so you'll look at his ass counts as flirting.”

And from that moment forward, Miles became hyper aware that Tristan's “messing with him” doubled as flirting whether he intended it to or not. The winking, the notes left in his backpack; it all counted as flirting. 

And then Tristan started to do it when they were alone.


	12. Supporting Role

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is Miles so skiddish? Why is the barista shirtless? Why is Winston cockblocking? Why is everyone in this damn musical?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 4 am forgive me.
> 
>  
> 
> edit: i fixed the format on this one/sorry it was originally posted from my phone which meant no paragraph breaks.

“Come on. You're the one who asked for my help.”

“You're the one who told me I should audition in the first place. Even though Zoe's auditioning, too.”

Tristan rolled his eyes, “Trust me. Being in the musical is much more fun than making props for it. Now put your shoulders back and try again.”

Miles sighed, “Alright, but you owe me.”

“I think you owe me. I didn't have to help you,” Tristan hopped up onto the stage. They had gone into the auditorium after classes on Monday to rehearse and they had the whole place to themselves. It was the end of October and auditions were tomorrow. “Here,” Tristan placed one hand on Miles’ lower back and one on his chest to straighten his posture, “Like this.”

Miles tensed up at the touch. 

“Fidgety much,” Tristan laughed.

“Sorry,” Miles shook it off, “Just nervous about the audition.”

“Look,” Tristan said grabbing Miles by the shoulders and looking him in the eye, “You can sing and you can act. You just need to project.” He grabbed Miles’ cheeks and pulled them into a smile.

Miles couldn't help but laugh, especially when his face was already doing it. After a moment of silence, he said softly, “Thank you.”

Tristan smiled, “No problem.”

And then it got awkward and Miles had to look away. It was like this whenever they were alone together. Tristan seemed fine, but ever since Winston pointed it out, Miles saw everything as flirting. The problem was that it never went past that. Tristan wanted to be friends as far as Miles knew. All Miles knew was that he couldn't spend this much time alone with Tristan.

“So… I think that's enough practice for today,” Miles said.

“Yeah. Right,” Tristan agreed, “Did you wanna go do something else? Get dinner?”

“Actually, I already told Winston we'd hang. Just us,” Miles replied. “But tomorrow, after auditions, I'm all yours.”

“Of course. Well, I guess I'll see you tonight anyway.”

 

Auditions for the Wizard of Oz were the next day. He didn't know how it happened, but somehow Tristan was able to convince Miles to do more than just props. Miles actually auditioned for a role in the musical and turns out he was pretty good at singing. And after a few pointers from Tristan, he was a pretty good performer as well. Tristan wanted to cheer him on at the audition, but with Zoe sitting right beside him, it didn't seem like the best idea. Luckily, Maya was there to cheer for him.

Tristan obviously killed his audition, hoping to land one of the leads like the year before, and oddly enough so did Zig. Heck, all their friends did hella great.

After auditions, Zoe grabbed Tristan by the arm, “Smoothies with us at the Dot?”

“Um, sure,” Tristan replied with a smile. He was dead tired but who cared. But before they left, Tristan sent Miles a text:  _ going to the dot w zoe. we’re still on for later tho? _

He quickly got a reply:  _ I'll be in our room. See you later. _

 

“Omg, Miles, you won't believe what happened,” Tristan said walking into their dorm room. He bent down to untie his shoes but continued to talk, “Maya went to get our drinks and while she was bringing them over, she bumped into the barista and spilled them  _ all over him. _ So this guy takes off his shirt in front of everyone and he's ripped. Like Channing Tatum ripped. And-” Tristan finally looked up, “Oh, Winston, didn't know you were here.”

“Yeah,” Winston was sitting in one of the desk chairs while Miles reclined back on his bed. “We were just hanging out. So you two are friends now? I thought since Zoe started hating Miles so did you.” He didn't bother mentioning the flirting.

“Well, we're roommates. We at least have to be civil. And this was a good story,” Tristan sounded personally offended.

Miles sat up on his elbows. “So what happened with the drinks.”

“We got new ones for free,” Tristan came further into the room, “and the barista eventually put another shirt on. It was good while it lasted. What's up with you guys?”

“Just hanging out,” Miles replied.

“Cool,” Tristan said with nothing more to say. Apparently, Miles’ “I'm all yours” wasn't so true.

Especially, since Winston stayed in their room until like eleven, on a school night. Not that Winston wasn't good company, it just seemed to Tristan like Miles didn't wanna spend time alone .

 

Two days later, Tristan was sat around in the the commons of the girls’ dorm doing homework with Zoe, when someone walked into the room with a paper. They pinned it to the bulletin board then walked away.

Tristan jumped up, knowing immediately what it was. It was the audition results. He ran over and quickly found his name on the list.

“Yes!” he said as Zoe came up beside him, “You're looking at this production’s Scarecrow. Just the part I wanted.”

Zoe high fived him then found her name, “Dorothy Gale. I got the lead. As usual.” 

“Congrats, superstar,” Tristan continued to glance through the roles, “And Maya's the Good Witch, and even Zig got a main role. The cowardly lion. That's bound to be something.”

“But look,” Zoe said, pointing to the paper, “Miles. Looks like he'll be in like half of my numbers.” Tristan read what she pointed to. Next to Miles’ name it said:  _ Tin Woodman. _

“It can't be that bad,” Tristan tried comforting her.

“Why couldn't he be a munchkin or something?”

“Because he's too tall,” Tristan tried lightening the mood but Zoe just glared. “This musical’s gonna be crazy, huh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI: it's summer and I'm bored so expect more. Also I always appreciate feedback. And again, it's 4 am, there might be typos.


	13. Just Your Average School Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fangs! Eye patches! Wolf masks! Tinted lip balm! You guessed it! Halloween!

Miles was sitting in Perino’s class when Winston tried to scare the living shit out of him and failed miserably.

“What is that?” Miles asked as he stared blankly at the wolf mask in front of him.

“My costume for Halloween dance Saturday, duh,” Winston said pulling the mask over his head.

“And you think any girl’s gonna wanna kiss you in that?” Miles laughed. Winston wasn’t exactly the best with girls.

“Hey, I was gonna come congratulate you on getting the part as Tinman in the musical, but if you're gonna be like that…”

“Chewy, I was kidding,” Miles paused then continued, “No girl’s gonna wanna kiss you no matter what you wear.”

“Thanks,” Winston said, knowing Miles was joking. Kind of. “What are you wearing?”

Miles shrugged, “I should have a pair of fangs lying around so vampire?”

“More like slutty vampire,” Winston laughed, “especially since you haven't hooked up with anyone since you and Zoe split. Or at least you haven't told me.”

“Oh, so now you think I'm like sex deprived or something?” Miles rolled his eyes, “You're one to talk.”

“Ha ha,” Winston said dryly. Then the warning bell rang. “I'll see you later,” he said before walking out of the room.

 

On Saturday night, all the students gathered in costumes to grind against each other. Tristan had gone to meet Maya and Zoe to get ready so that left Miles to chill with Winston. Miles’ costume was simple: black pants, a black shirt, and a pair of realistic fangs that surprisingly didn't give him a lisp. While Winston made faces in the mirror, Miles received a text from Tristan:  _ save me a dance? _

Miles didn't know how to respond or even what Tristan meant so he took his time and reluctantly replied with  _ sure.  _

 

The Halloween dance was held in the school’s banquet hall, which was basically a building consisting of a few giant rooms with one hallway that had the exits and the bathrooms and that's all it needed. The largest of the rooms had been converted into a dance floor, decked out with cobwebs and streamers, and a dj was up on stage playing all the classic spooky hits.

Tristan and company arrived fashionably late. He wore his favorite tan pants cuffed to mid-calf and a red striped shirt. What made his costume was the eye patch he wore across his forehead. He hadn't spotted Miles yet but to be fair, the kids were starting to gather in a cluster on the dance floor, so close you couldn't find anyone. It didn't matter though, because Tristan had Zoe and Maya and so many other people to dance with.

A couple hours into dancing, Zoe had migrated away with a few of her freshmen friends leaving Tristan and Maya to chat by the skeleton decorations. Tristan was still scanning the room.

“Okay, who are you looking for?” Maya asked getting his attention.

Tristan sighed and let his head fall back against the wall, “Miles. I know we’re not supposed to be friends, but he promised me a dance.”

Maya got closer so she didn’t have to yell, “You don’t still like him do you?” She didn’t have the whole story about what happen between them, but she could always tell when he was crushing.

“That obvious?” Tristan laughed, “No but I’m honestly just happy we’re still friends.”  _ If he’d just stop avoiding me,  _ he thought. “I mean the closest thing I have to a guy friend is Zig. Speaking of...” Zig appeared beside Maya, expectantly. Sensing the awkwardness, Tristan excused himself and for the moment he roamed the dance floor alone.

 

“Let's dance,” was the first thing Miles heard when Tristan came up behind him at the snack table, and after that he was being dragged out into the crowd. 

“We're not friends though,” Miles replied with sarcasm.

Tristan turned to face him, dancing along to some boppy song about skeletons, “Oh come on. Nobody is paying attention to us and Zoe's across the room with her other friends.” Tristan pouted, “And don't worry no one will get the wrong idea unless we start grinding up against each other.”

Miles couldn't resist, “Fine. One song.”

It was just one song, but the other students in the crowd were engulfing them and the more people were around them, the closer they got. Tristan was focused on dancing and enjoying himself, while Miles was fixated on Tristan's face and the way their bodies brushed together.

Then someone bumped a little too hard into Miles and he plummeted into Tristan's arms. He caught him by the waist, “A little close, huh?”

Miles almost couldn't breathe so he pushed his way off the dance floor and out of sight.

 

Tristan found him out in the hall. It was empty and dark aside from the lights that shone through the windows from the lamps outside. Miles was against one of the walls looking at his feet. When he heard footsteps, he looked up to see Tristan cautiously approach him. 

“You should go back inside. Zoe's gonna wonder where you went,” Miles said starting to walk away.

“Okay are you mad at me or something? It's like you don't ever wanna be alone with me and if you haven't noticed, that's pretty much the only way we can hang out.”

“That's not my fault,” he said defensively, though the way he looked down at his feet told a different story.

“Are you mad that I'm hiding our friendship? Because I swear as soon as Zoe is over you, we can  come out as friends again, okay? And I'm trying to spend time with you, not that you're putting much effort into it.”

Miles swallowed, “Maybe we're spending too much time together.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Winston pointed out that you  _ have  _ been flirting with me.”

“We were joking around,” Tristan was growing angry, “and  _ you _ flirted back. But I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.” 

He was ready to storm off, but Miles stopped him. Something in Miles’ expression had changed. “I'm not uncomfortable.”

Tristan looked at him more confused than angry now, “Then why have you been acting like an ass?”

Miles knew exactly why, not that he planned on saying it. It was just like him to always make a mess of everything he touched and this all could have been avoided if Miles had ditched Zoe and hooked up with some random person instead. But he got involved with a group of friends and he didn't want to lose anyone, especially Tristan. And now, because he wasn't honest, he almost lost him.

“Because,” Miles stepped forward causing Tristan's expression to soften, “I was afraid that if I got to spend time with you alone,” another step, “then I wouldn't be able to stop myself from doing this,” Miles closed the gap between them, his hands instinctively holding Tristan's waist as he pushed him back against the wall. He kissed him. And Tristan was kissing him back. 

When Tristan broke for air he asked, “Then why didn't you just say so?” Miles just smiled, looking around to see if they were still alone. Eager, Tristan grabbed the sides of Miles’ face, pulling him in for another kiss. Miles tugged at the other boy’s bottom lip as they built a rhythm and melted into each other. He was so happy, a rush of endorphins flooding through his body.

They broke the kiss, breathing heavy, still without space between them.

“Wow,” Miles exhaled.

“Yeah,” Tristan smiled, “the fangs were a little strange though.”

Miles laughed, “Sorry about that.”

“Don't be. But I'm still mad you ran away from me.” 

Soon, they heard the bathroom door swing open and they quickly stepped apart. Miles heart was still racing.

“Always being interrupted,” Tristan whispered, laughing slightly.

It was Winston who appeared down the hall, drying off his hands on his pants, and he quickly spotted Miles. “Hey, bro,” he waved as he walked towards them, “and Tristan? What are you guys doing out here?”

“It's a little too loud in there,” Miles said, casually, “we wanted to talk.” Tristan fought to keep his smile to himself

“Fair enough. Well I'm going back in so,” Winston went to walk away but suddenly stopped himself. Looking at Tristan, he asked, “Why are your lips all red?”

Silently, Miles and Tristan shared a look, searching for an answer. “Uh, it's, uh, tinted lip balm,” Tristan replied nodding.

“But you're a dude,” Winston was skeptical of his answer.

“So?”

“Hey, no hate,” Winston raised his hands up as a truce, “it's smeared all over the place, though.” 

As soon as Winston was back inside, Miles started cracking up. Tristan punched his shoulder, “It’s not funny. We almost got caught.”

“It's kind of funny.”

Tristan cracked a smile, “I think it's time to go back to the dance.”

“Right, right,” Miles nodded, “But first, I have to ask. Why didn’t you say anything? If you liked me, why’d you wanna just be friends?”

“I don’t know,” Tristan admitted, “I guess I was worried things would get too messy if-”

“Things with me are always messy,” Miles confessed. “

With a smile, Tristan said, “I think I can deal with it.”

“Okay, then just one more thing.”

Before Tristan could ask what, Miles leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Now go,” Miles told him with false drama, “I'll wait back a minute so it's not suspicious.”


End file.
